


black butterflies and deja-vu.

by emiliathegreat



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky's POV, F/M, Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Pining, Songfic, bucky being insecure, i tried to be at least a little bit canon-compliant, steve being a good bro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 17:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16896810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emiliathegreat/pseuds/emiliathegreat
Summary: "what would you say if you could say everything you needed to, to the one you needed to?"ora journey through your relationship with bucky based on the song "black butterflies and deja-vu by the maine





	black butterflies and deja-vu.

_ what would you say _

_ If you could say _

_ Everything you needed to _

_ To the one you needed to? _

Bucky first met you at a farmers market.

Ever since he moved to the compound after the Winter Soldier stuff died down, Steve had encouraged him to get reacquainted with the city, and more often than not, that meant wandering the streets of Brooklyn with a baseball cap pulled down over his face, his hands stuffed in the pockets of a sweatshirt as he walked.

There was something about open-air markets that always drew him in. Maybe it was because with all of the change that the world had undergone while he was iced, the markets always seemed to stay the same with their cacophony of friendly chatter and loud bargaining, the delicious smells of street food and kettle corn, and the friendly atmosphere that existed in a city that could be so harsh.

He avoided eye contact as much as he could with the people around him, still harboring the fear that someone would recognize him from the months his picture spent flashing across the news and make a scene.

He didn’t want to be feared. He just wanted to be normal. As much as he could be, at least.

He loved the diversity of the booths that were available. There was everything from handmade soaps and candles to hand-dyed shirts and fresh produce. Kids ran by with bright balloons and bags of kettle corn, and he found a small smile spreading across his features before too long.

His gaze was captured by the way that the panes sitting outside a booth selling stained glass caught the sunlight and transformed it into ethereal colors. However, something far more breathtaking caught his eye.

_ You _ .

Okay, so maybe Steve’s advice wasn’t the only thing that kept drawing him back to the weekly market. Maybe it was the gorgeous girl that always stopped by the same booth that sold flowers at just about noon every week, the kind varying weekly with what the shop had to offer. That week, it was a bouquet of colorful wildflowers. The week before, it had been zinnias, and dahlias the time before that.  

He knew it sounded creepy.  _ God _ , it sounded creepy. But seeing you offer a friendly smile to the vendor, slip a generous tip into the jar next to the register, and then walk away with the flowers in one hand and a cup of coffee from a shop a block away in the other just brightened his day in the way that few things could.

So when he woke up at 6 AM like he always did because of his bullshit circadian rhythm, he heaved out a heavy sigh and ran a hand over his face, dread settling into his bones like it always did in the morning. However, when he realized that it was a Thursday, the weight seemed to lift a little bit, because it was the day that he would be able to see you at the market.

He took a quick shower - cold because he didn’t have the patience to wait for the water to heat up - and then pulled on what Tony called his “civilian getup,” which consisted of jeans, a black long sleeved shirt, and a plain grey baseball cap. With little else but a quick look in the mirror, he was out the door and into the dewy morning.

He walked the all-too familiar path through the neighborhood, melting into the small amount of traffic of people to walking to work or any of the various coffee shops that litter the storefronts in order to get their morning fix. Before he was iced, he would’ve likely been part of that crowd, but he had a strong belief that people nowadays liked their coffee too sweet, and if he were to just get it black, why not make it at home and spare himself the few bucks?

He fiddled with a loose thread in his pocket as he took the turn toward the market, smiling as the bustling street came into view. He was happy to recognize a lot of the regular booths, and even offered a small nod to the woman at the beeswax stall who gave him a smile and a kind good morning.

However, when he reached the other side of the market, near the all-too-familiar flower booth, his ray of sunshine was nowhere to be found. He was distracted for a moment, wondering why she broke her normal routine and where she could be, when the answer literally walked into him.

You had just hung up from a phone call and hadn’t been paying attention, causing you to run into the brick wall of a man, dropping your cup of coffee and small bouquet of orange tulips onto the pavement. Bucky cringed, hearing the crunch of paper and the splash of liquid on the pavement and immediately crouched down in order to help pick them up. He gently scooped up the blooms and stood, but he went rigid when he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

It was  _ you _ .

You were frozen in shock, your eyes wide, and Bucky’s heart sank, scared that you were frightened of him. That fear dissipated only a moment later when you let out a soft gasp and a squeak of “oh my God, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

It was only then that he noticed that quite a bit of coffee had spilled on his jacket, and that its scalding heat was just beginning to seep through the fabric. He wanted to assure you that he was fine, but under your concerned gaze his cheeks turned pink and his words got caught in his throat.

“I-I’m alright, sorry about your coffee, miss.” He managed to stutter out, holding out the flowers.

“It was completely my fault, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” You apologized as you took the flowers from his hands. Your fingers brushed gently over those on his metal hand, and even though his hands were gloved, it still made him tense. Luckily, you either didn’t notice or didn’t care enough to call him out on it because your expression never faltered. “ _ God _ , I’m such an idiot, I’m sorry.”

“I could buy you another cup of coffee, if you want?” He blurted, his mouth moving much faster than his mind was.

He was afraid that he was being too forward and that you would think he was some kind of creep, but he was relieved when you smiled at him. “I actually have to go to work right now, but I’d love to take you up on that offer later, um…”

“Bucky.” He quickly supplied, and your face lit up with a kind smile.

“I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

For some reason, being around you and being able to talk to you just made him feel warm in a way that he hadn’t felt since before he had been iced. After you quickly exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes, you flashed him a genuine grin and called, “I’ll see you later, Bucky!”

Hearing you say his name gave him butterflies in his stomach, and as he watched you walk away, he was half-convinced that the interaction was all a dream.

~

It took three dates for Bucky to open up to you about who he really was.

The two of you had gone back to your place after grabbing dinner at a diner that claimed to have the greatest pie in all of New York (and it had been pretty damn good, he wasn’t going to lie). You cracked open a bottle of rosé and poured it into two coffee mugs. “I once had two wine glasses but then a friend had her bachelorette party here and I bet you can guess how that turned out.” You said in explanation, and Bucky let out a small laugh.

He had learned a lot about you in the past few weeks. He knew how you liked your coffee, what emojis you used the most while you texted, and what your favorite kind of chocolate was. Topics ranged a little deeper on your dates as well, as you told him about how you grew up, why you came to New York in the first place, and revealed your favorite spots in the city to find some quiet amidst the constant buzz of chaos.

He felt as though he was finally starting to get to know you, but also felt guilty because in listening to everything you had to say, he didn’t interject much about himself into the conversation. It’s not that he didn’t have the opportunity to; there were plenty of times where you asked about him and he would hesitate and say something vague or change the subject. He hated it - he felt like he was lying to you in a way, and he just couldn’t bear it anymore.

So he told you on the couch that night, with his heart pounding in his ears and his hands shaking slightly as he held onto his mug. The moment that “the winter soldier” passed his lips, your expression fell, and his face grew hot with shame. He avoided eye contact with you as he stared into his cup.

“I thought you looked familiar.You were on the news.” You spoke softly after a moment, and Bucky’s heart sank. He could only imagine the horrendous and vile thoughts you now associated him with, and he was unable to deal with the fact that your gaze, which had been so kind and warm in the past, would now be clouded with judgement or maybe even fear when it fell upon him.

He cleared his throat, set his mug down on the coffee table, and stood, wiping his sweaty palms on the thighs of his jeans. “I-I’m sorry, I should probably go. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He murmured hurriedly, cursing himself for thinking that he had any chance with you. He

“Bucky, I’m not scared.” You spoke softly, and when Bucky turned back to look at you, he saw nothing but concern in your eyes. You wordlessly reached out for him, and he took it your hand with his gloved right. He sat back down as you gingerly placed your mug on the coffee table beside his and sat cross-legged facing him on the couch. You pulled his hands into your lap, his palms facing upward. Wordlessly, you pulled off the glove of his right hand, revealing the calloused skin of a man who worked with his hands.

The left one got pulled off as well, and Bucky tensed as the plated metal of his prosthetic came into view.

You gently ran your fingers over the cool cybernetic surface and he watched uneasily.

“I did some of my own research about the Winter Soldier too because I felt like there was something missing from the normal spiel that they gave on him on T.V. and I know that they had you all wrong. I read about what happened during the war and with Hydra, and I know that you didn’t do all those things that they said you did. That was the Winter Soldier, not Bucky Barnes.” You raised your eyes to meet his after the last bit to find his, starting to brim with tears.

You lifted his metal hand so that he could cup your cheek, but when the cool metal touched your flushed cheek, he flinched, pulling his hand away and to his chest. “You’re not going to hurt me, Buck.” You said gently.

He shook his head. “You don’t know that.” Not everything in his head was back to where it was before,  and while The Winter Soldier hadn’t surfaced in quite a while, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something happened to you because someone managed to get their hands on the damn sequence of words that would throw everything back to shit.

You decided not to push him - his expression was too dark and held too much for you to deconstruct in an instant. Instead, you just scooted closer to him, nuzzling into his side and under his metal arm. The two of you sat in silence for a good while, the air of the room still heavy from the exchange.

“I trust you, Bucky. I know you don’t, but I do.” Your small whisper broke the silence, and the confession made his heart pound in his throat.

~

The two of you went on one more date before you made it official - which entailed meeting the rest of the Avengers. Much to Bucky’s relief, they accepted you immediately. Steve took the longest to come around, concerned about about his best friend, but even he was able to see how happy you made Bucky, and you became great friends with him as well.

After a year and a half together, the Avengers decided to move upstate, and that brought its own set of challenges. You stayed in your little apartment in the city, but after about a month of late night phone calls and making the trek to the compound on the weekends, Bucky told you about a traditional style house not far from the compound. It wasn’t two weeks later before the house was purchased and you were making arrangements to rent a U-Haul truck.

“Is that the last one?” You asked as Bucky walked through the front door of the house carrying a cardboard box. When he nodded and set the box down with the several others in the otherwise empty living room, you threw your arms up excitedly. “James Buchanan Barnes, we’re officially homeowners!”

He took the few steps over to you and picked you up, spinning you around in circles while you wrapped your legs around his waist. He came to a stop and you cupped his face in your hands, staring into his eyes with a giddy grin and flushed cheeks. He pressed forward the short distance to kiss you deeply, feeling lightheaded with happiness.

When he set you down, you gave him one more peck on the cheek before walking the short distance to the well-worn sofa and collapsing onto it. It was the only piece of furniture that had been moved into the living room, the rest would be delivered within the week “You okay, sweetheart?” He asked with a laugh after watching you fall seemingly bonelessly into the soft cushions, and you let out a groan.

“My body hurts and there’s still so much to do.” You whine.

Looking at you with a fond smile, he shook his head. “I have a plan.” He pulled you to your feet and wrapped you in his arms. “How about we start officially unpacking tomorrow, but for now you take a long, hot shower upstairs? By the time you come back down, i’ll have ordered takeout.”

“If I find where I put my laptop, can we watch Friends too?”

“Whatever you want, doll.” He said with a smile, and you let out a happy hum against his chest.

As you made your way upstairs to the master bathroom, Bucky made the call to your favorite takeout place for delivery and sat down on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees. He let out a long exhale as he heard the shower turn on from upstairs, and reached into the pocket of his jeans to retrieve a small weight that was resting there.

His fingers wrapped around the small black box and pulled it out of his pocket, holding it between his digits absentmindedly. With one more sigh, he leaned back and popped it open, revealing the simple diamond ring that was nestled inside. He had bought it weeks ago, before he had to leave New York City, thinking that he would find the perfect moment and be able to drop to a knee and ask you to be his forever.

But the moment never came.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask you, because he did more than anything. It’s just that he could never find the time that felt perfectly right. You deserved the biggest, most romantic moment that the universe had to offer, and anything else felt inadequate.

He wanted to just get down on a knee and go for it, but whole universal timing aside, what would he even say? If he couldn’t have the right moment thanks to karma or whatever, he could possibly make a big romantic speech to make up for it, but that’s a lot of pressure for a moment in time unless he were to write it down, but a notecard would definitely kill the mood.

Bucky was jolted out of his reverie by the knock on the door, and he pocketed the ring once more so that he could pay the delivery man at the door.

He quickly set the paper food containers out on the kitchen counter before returning to the living room and pacing back and forth across the carpet. He ran his hands through his hair as he thought hard, brow furrowed in concentration as the box sat suddenly heavy in his pocket.

“Babe, is everything ok?” Bucky heard you say, and he turned to see you, standing at the foot of the stairs. You were wearing what you referred to as your “comfies,” which consisted of an old shirt and sleeping shorts, and your still-damp hair was mussed playfully. Your face was cleansed of all makeup and you looked refreshed and absolutely radiant. “You look like you’re going to wear through the carpet.” You told him with a fond sparkle in your eyes.

_ Fuck it _ , Bucky thought.

He dropped to a knee right there in the middle of the living room, taking the ring box out of his pocket and opening it. He held his breath and locked his gaze onto yours, waiting for a response.

“Bucky…” You said slowly, frozen to the spot and seemingly lost for words. He could tell that by the way you blushed pink and your lips turned up into the faintest smile that your shock was positive.

“C’mere, doll. I’ve got something I wanna say to you.” He beckoned softly, and you nodded, stepping forward so that he was on his knee directly in front of you. He reached up to take your hand in the one that wasn’t holding the ring.

“I’m not good with words. Or emotions, really. But I’m good with you, Y/N. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met, and from the moment I met you at that market, I’ve been able to feel things and see a future for myself that I haven’t been able to feel or see since before I was iced. You’re everything that I’ve ever wanted.”

Tears were welling up in your eyes as you grinned, and you squeezed his hand. He took it as a sign to continue.

“I’ve had this ring for weeks, but I’ve been waiting for the universe to grant me some kind of perfect moment, and it’s taken me this long to realize that any moment with you is a perfect one. And I know that we’re surrounded by boxes right now, and that this might not be the romantic proposal that you dreamed of as a little girl, but I’m planning on spending the rest of my life making it up to you. Y/N, will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

Tears were freely falling down your cheeks as you breathed a “yes, oh my God,” and Bucky slid the ring onto your finger. You immediately fell to your knees on the ground so that you could embrace him, making him lose his balance and topple onto the ground underneath you with a laugh. He kissed you deeply, cupping your face in his hands and wiping the tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

Before too long, the two of you were sitting against the couch, watching Netflix on your laptop and eating takeout with plastic forks and drinking champagne that Steve bought Bucky from the bottle (”For whenever you get around to it, Pal.” He had said).

Tomorrow, the two of you would break the news to the rest of the team and officially start unpacking things into your new place, but at that moment, there was a still feeling of relaxation that he savored. He hadn’t felt so happy with things to come in a long time.

Bucky couldn’t wait to start the rest of his life with you. 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on tumblr!! @darlingpeter!!


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